


toe picks & hockey sticks

by yehetno



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mild Cursing, figure skater!rocky, figure skating & ice hockey, former figure skater!eunwoo, hockey player!moon bin, ice rink!au, idk if we'll touch on any other relationships, jinjin being The Best, just softness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehetno/pseuds/yehetno
Summary: As a professional hockey team takes over part of his rink, Dongmin does everything in his power to dislike them for ruining what little peace and harmony he has left in his life.  And Moon Bin does everything in his power to get the cute instructor at their host rink to go on a date with him.





	1. i. waltz jump

**Author's Note:**

> the olympics are here, and if THERE WAS EVER A TIME FOR ME TO WORD VOMIT ABOUT MY OVERALL LOVE OF FIGURE SKATING & HOCKEY, this is the moment.  
> alternative titles were: _penalty box, h e double hockey sticks_  
>  **so! i decided that this au would borrow teams from the ALIH (Asian League Ice Hockey) because the story is based in korea, so Bin is on High1 (simply because they play in goyang... idk your preference for alih teams; i only watch the nhl, which, fun fact, is NOT a korean/east asian league!) However, since i can find next to nothing on penalties/infractions in the alih, most of the penalties, regulations, etc will be borrowed from nhl & olympic rules.

Dongmin checks his watch, back slumping against the flat wooden planks of the bench.  He crosses his feet and grips the edges of the jacket, pulling them tighter as he hugs himself.  His annoyance doesn't boil over into anger, but rather it sinks into disappointment, amplifying the chill in the air.  Even now, his ex does not respect his time or schedule; Dongmin starts to think it might be better just to cut his losses and tell his ex to screw himself.

It is exceptionally rare for Dongmin to feel uncomfortable in the cold, after all, he does spend most of his days in an ice rink and has for the vast majority of his life.  Somehow, even after a career-ending injury, Dongmin still has it in him to go back and teach young kids his life-long passion.  He coaches a few competitive athletes and forces himself to grin and bear the crippling heartache as he prods them toward a future he so desperately wanted but can no longer have.  Ice practically runs through his veins out of necessity.

So, as another gust of wind prompts his body to seize up in a shiver, Dongmin momentarily hates existing in the cold of winter.  He hates that he agreed to meet with his ex on  _his_ terms where he has to watch people loop around a tiny rink with laughter in their lungs as he waits for the  _final_ return of his camera among other things he left in that stupid apartment.  He thinks maybe the location was chosen just to sour the idea of ice skating ever so slightly because his ex is just  _that_ kind of asshole.

"Would you like this hot chocolate?" Someone asks from behind him.

Dongmin twists around to face a man in a puffy jacket and a fur-lined aviator hat with a generic white cup from the cafe behind him.

"I promise there's nothing wrong with it," the man promises after reading the concerned look on Dongmin's face.  "They messed up my order and said that I could keep it since it was already made."

Dongmin sighs and, despite knowing better, he accepts the cup with both hands, relishing in the burning heat against his hands.  He softly says, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it.  Stay warm," replies the man with a wide smile and tip of the hat.  He briskly walks away, leaving Dongmin wondering why, of all people, he chose to give his spare hot chocolate to Dongmin.

Dongmin turns about around and holds the warmth in his hands, catching sight of name penned in a thick black sharpie.

 

_Moon Bin ♡_

 

He hums, wonders why a heart might follow the name, and decides to enjoy the hot chocolate while wishing that something good happens to Moon Bin.  A random of act of kindness on his behalf has momentarily saved his mood.

 

//

 

Flicking his scarf over his shoulder, Dongmin slams his car door shut, swiping his travel mug off of the roof of the car.  With his bag in tow, he wiggles his nose and heads toward the main entrance of the rink.  His brow furrows as he registers mild surprise at the high car volume in the parking lot.  For a weekday morning, there are too many cars.  He wonders if there is an event nearby and their parking lot is a convenient spot.  It also could simply be a fair share of skaters decided to come in and train earlier or for longer than normal.

He takes a sip of his coffee as he enters through the automated sliding doors, walking toward the back office while raising his mug at Jinwoo with the warmest smile he can muster before eight o'clock in morning.

Jinwoo wheels over to him in his chair, leaning against the arm of the chair, body-posture ready to engage in office gossip.  Dongmin stops at the end of the main desk, setting his mug down and looking at Jinwoo with an eyebrow raised, silently prompting Jinwoo to begin speaking.

Jinwoo runs a hand through his hair as he says, "You missed the mandatory staff meeting."

Dongmin shifts between his feet and pulls the handle of his travel mug to readjust its orientation on the desk.  He sighs, "I had a personal thing."

"Post-breakup hostage exchange?" Jinwoo inquires with his uncanny ability to identify the reasons behind Dongmin's expressions.

"Sure, my stuff in exchange for a final opportunity to relish in my humiliation," Dongmin mumbles.  He lifts his eyes up again as he leans against the high ledge of the desk, "What happened during the staff meeting?"

Jinwoo lips turn into a wicked smile, "They announced that High1's practice rink is being resurfaced, and the team needs a place to practice during the regular season. So for the time being, we will be hosting the team."

Dongmin's face twists into an expression of confusion, "They're resurfacing their practice rink in the middle of the season?"

Jinwoo nods, nestling chin into the palm of his curled-up hand, shivering in delight, "Aren't we so lucky? Professional hockey players in all of their muscular glory here, every day."

Dongmin picks up his travel mug and offers Jinwoo a frown.  He brings it to his lips and considers the information while Jinwoo pushes away to roll toward the primary computer where a father and young skater stand, waiting to purchase an ice pass.  Dongmin finds himself unexpectedly annoyed; a full-time team at their rink will bring random watchers to overcrowd the bleachers.  Furthermore, there will be less time for competitive skaters to practice technique and undoubtedly make the class schedule wonky.  Besides, Dongmin has never been particularly fond of ice hockey; he remembers once during his youth when a kid hit him squarely in the back with a wayward puck.

Once Jinwoo prints out a pass and hands it to the father, he pulls himself along the desk back to where Dongmin stands.  Dongmin asks him a question before Jinwoo resumes gushing over the potential eye candy.  "Why here?"

Jinwoo shrugs, "A bunch of rink managers in the area applied, and we are the lucky location that got chosen. Besides, it's good press."

"Their practice location only has one rink?"  Dongmin complains in the form of the question.  He would think a professional team would have the wherewithal to lease out a location with multiple surfaces for this exact kind of thing. 

"It doesn't matter,  _but_ their staff is taking up part of our offices and the locker rooms for the regulation rink are now their dedicated locker rooms.  Since they had to condense our space, you and I are desk buds now.  I have all your lesson plans and stuff up here." Jinwoo points to a stack of binders tucked under the top ledge of the desk.  Dongmin can read his neat print along the spines.

With a grimace, Dongmin pinches the bridge of his nose, "When does it start?"

Jinwoo laughs and kicks his feet against the ground to propel himself away.  "Minhyuk is warming up and waiting for you."

"Today?" Dongmin exclaims in horror, pulling the answer to his question from the non-answer.  He shakes his head and silently condemns management for springing it on everyone so suddenly.  He walks toward the Olympic rink to begin coaching Minhyuk for the day.

As he enters the rink, the air temperature drops sharply.  Dongmin smiles and inhales the refreshing air.  He starts skirting around the boards, identifying familiar skaters on the ice.  He glances over to the bleachers, frowning at an entire row of unfamiliar hulking bodies with their backs against the wall.  Funnily enough, he recognizes one of the faces as the man who gave him the hot chocolate last night, Moon Bin.  He wonders who Moon Bin and the strangers might be watching on the ice because he knows all people out there and the few coaches populating the benches.

He reaches the bench and waves Minhyuk over as he sits on the marked-up red plastic bench, fishing his well-loved boots out of his bag.  Minhyuk stops in front of him and leans against the boards with his forearms.  Dongmin pulls off his shoe and focuses on lacing up as he asks Minhyuk, "What have you done so far?"

"Stretched, did a couple laps, and worked on my edges during turns," Minhyuk tells him quietly.

Dongmin pops up onto his feet after lacing his boots.  "I want to work jumping today."

Minhyuk nods sharply.

"Give me a couple waltzes and then we'll move up to your axel.  If you have time today, we'll work on your double too."

With another nod, Minhyuk zips off to gain air for his effortless front-to-back one-eighty degree jumps.

 

//

 

As the hour draws to a close, the skaters file off of the ice slowly.  Jinwoo pries the doors to the ice resurfacer open.  Minhyuk bows and promises to return to the rink later in the evening after he finishes classes and does some conditioning.

Dongmin scoops his bag up, glancing at the men sitting on the bleachers, eyes revisiting Moon Bin.  Does Moon Bin remember him?  Does he want Moon Bin to remember him?  What is he doing here?

He cuts across the ice as Jinwoo drives onto the ice.  Jinwoo calls out from his seat, "Are you coming to welcoming party for the team?"

"I'm busy then," Dongmin replies, brushing off the unwanted opportunity to mingle with a bunch of brutes for an evening.

"I didn't tell you when it is!"

Dongmin waves at him as he gets off the ice, calling out, "I'm a popular person! My time is valuable!"

"Yeah yeah, do your paperwork!"

Dongmin laughs, sparing one final look at the row of strangers with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

It doesn't surprise him when the group traipses through the lobby half an hour later, following a gray-haired man with a clipboard in High1 t-shirt while jostling one another on their way to the regulation rink.  Moon Bin rears up the line, talking to one of his teammates. 

Dongmin exhales in relief when he does not notice him sitting behind the front desk. Any passing wishes he might have had to truly thank Moon Bin for his random kindness on a crappy night are quickly stashed in the back of his mind.  He cannot help but feel a tinge of disappointment when he sees Moon Bin in his practice uniform as it confirms his purpose of being in the rink.

How disappointing that Dongmin has to think of him oppositionally now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this might not be the most satisfying chapter BUT WE'LL GET THERE. also, this is like 98% pure passion project, so imma do what i want)
> 
> i think it is important to tell you that ice skating lessons/training generally have a broader range of moves to practice than one specific thing. however, i'm not here to bog you down with the nitty-gritty specifics of how training would go given the format of this fic & the frequency with which we will be at the rink.  
> you can follow me on [tumblr](http://yehetno.tumblr.com) if you want; for a guaranteed response to questions, tumblr is the best place to ask them.  
> i will be trying to update this as often as possible, mainly because i fear that after the olympics end, my motivation will wane.  
> so, drop a comment to let me know what you think. subscribe/kudos/bookmark if you think this merits any of those.  
> thanks!


	2. ii. spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin meets Moon Bin. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uM Thank you so much for the wonderful response to chapter one????  
> (maybe typos ahead who knows)  
> (SHAUN WHITE WON HIS 3RD OLYMPIC GOLD MEDAL, I ALMOST diED watching.)

Dongmin peels the roster sheet on his clipboard up, folding it back over the metal clip holding it down to scan through the progress checkpoints for his upcoming class.  He fishes a pen from his pocket and underlines a few moves to target for the session, mentally running through the skills he wants to check back on.

He pops open the clipboard, spotting his stickers between fat permanent markers and spare bandages.  He loves the young kids that show up for weekend lessons.  They come with worried parents, doting on their wrapped up children, urging them not to stray too far the board until they get to the lane where Dongmin waits for them.  Young skaters don't quite have the hang of it, gripping the battered boards with mittened hands, practically tripping over their toepicks, engaging in a constant fight with gravity before barreling into Dongmin's legs.  Armed with skate and bike helmets, they struggle to stand flat on the skates, misusing their inside edges to begrudgingly move forward.

Dongmin tosses his pen into the clipboard's compartment and weaves through the small cones the ice.  He bends over the boards in front of the benches, hoping that he has his saucer cones in this rink.  He collapses against the plastic in disappointment, letting his body hang over it like a ragdoll for a moment. 

His equipment for the day is in the other rink where High1 is currently practicing.

Dongmin closes his eyes, dreading the number of fans he will have to elbow through.  He has been successful in avoiding Moon Bin thus far, although he does not know if there is a point in avoiding him. 

Dongmin pulls himself up, returning the tension back to his muscles as he pops up.  He almost asks Yeonah if she would be willing to spare some cones for him.  He stops himself from doing so because Yeonah's skaters do not generally need physical or even visual assistance to help them complete their moves.  She likely has her cones stashed away in the deep recesses of a locker room or in the bowels of storage.  He decides against borrowing anyone else's materials; the eye-for-an-eye mentality runs deep between coaches, so someone will likely find a warped way to get him to return the favor.

Dongmin pushes off of the wall and traverses ice, pulling his skate guards down from where they hang on the translucent netting above the glass panes.  He slips his blades into the guards and hastily begins to make his way out of the rink, plastic guards thudding against the thick rubber mat.  

He groans quietly as he crosses the lobby; the sight of dozens of fans glued to the glass panes and boards, just  _watching_ the team's practice dynamics.  A twinge of annoyance surges through him once again.  Each time their presence causes a further disruption to Dongmin's routines or expectations he finds it that much more unforgivable.  He wishes he had more time to prepare while simultaneously chastising the team for their poor choice in practice venue that led them to Dongmin's home rink.

Dongmin squeezes his way through the crowd, rounding the end of the rink.  A few on-lookers catch him making progress toward the benches and cast annoyed, even disgusted, looks at him.  He snorts to himself; how  _dare_ he do his job. 

A puck thwacks against the glass behind Dongmin, causing him to jump and freeze in place.  A player casts a curious look at Dongmin as he swoops around the net and speeds off, handling the puck with agile flicks of the wrist.  Dongmin pauses to watch the player carry on with their small scrimmage.  He shudders as a momentary awe falls over him. Somewhere in all of the violence and aggression of hockey, there is some beauty.  He can  _hear_ their skates carving into the ice with hard edges, leaving the kind of ruts that can be seen and felt even after a Zamboni passes over it several times.  They stop with the tremendous force, skates scraping harshly and spraying snow on the boards.

He recomposes himself and hastily approaches the bench, spotting his stacked cones tucked behind the steel frame of a board panel.  He crouches down, keenly aware of the shouting on the ice and the sounds of tape wrapped blades slapping against the hard rubber puck.

"Can I help you?" A voice softly asks, prompting Dongmin to look at a young man mirroring his crouched position.

Dongmin picks up his cones and says plainly, "Cones."

"You work here?" He replies suspiciously, "I didn't see you at the meeting."

Dongmin clears his throat and stands up, "That's because I didn't go."

The man squints, clearly unsure of Dongmin's intentions and truthfulness.  "It was mandatory."

With a tight-lipped smile, Dongmin sighs, "Look, classes start in ten minutes and I need to set up.  I'm Lee Dongmin, you can ask Jinwoo who I am if you don't believe me."

"Jinwoo seems like the type to vouch for you even if you aren't official personnel."

"Look," Dongmin starts, checking the name stitched into his jacket to call this man something.  " _Kim Myungjun_ , Jinwoo is exactly that type of person, and I'll be sure to tell him you think so.  However, I have cones to set up."

Dongmin spins around and starts making his way back to the correct rink without answering any more of Kim Myungjun's questions.  It makes him chuckle; somehow, this stranger has tacked down Jinwoo's odd kind of sweetness in a short amount of time.  He has no doubt that Jinwoo would lie for him, especially if he thought it might give him an opportunity to be happy.

Without wasting any time, he returns, running into a student in the lobby and asking her to help him set up their obstacle course while everyone else arrives.

 

//

 

Dongmin pulls his laces apart from his seat on the bleachers, stiff fingers working to untangle them and pull them off the hooks.  He knows that he stayed later than he should have; the streets on the drive home will likely be empty.

He yanks the skate off, placing it in his bag before attacking his left foot. 

He feels some sense of satisfaction in the improvement in Minhyuk's stability when switching spin positions.  Finally, Minhyuk seems to have improved his centering techniques.  He glances up at the time displayed on the scoreboard.  The red numbers give him ten minutes or so until the rink is locked up for the night, and since Dongmin does not have keys, he'll have to hustle to file away his paperwork.

Slipping into his tennis shoes, he descends to the ground floor.  He tucks away his binders and clipboard underneath the ledge of the main desk and recedes into the main office to mark down his time card.  He'll flesh out the descriptors later when he isn't as tired and has more than a handful of minutes to pull together.

He zips up his jacket and waves goodbye to another staff member in the lobby before loping to his car.  He fishes his keys out of his bag, slipping his point finger into the keyring to press the keys into his palm.

"HOT COCOA!" Someone yells slightly breathlessly.

Dongmin stops in confusion. He cocks his head to the side, momentarily baffled by the voice's decision to yell 'hot cocoa' into the nighttime air in a sparsely populated parking lot.  Then, it clicks for Dongmin.

He whips around, holding onto the slimmest hope that it might be someone else or that it has nothing to do with him.

Moon Bin waves with his entire arm when their eyes connect.  He hitches up the strap of his duffle and jogs toward Dongmin with a refreshingly wide smile on his face.  He stops a foot away from Dongmin, lacquering on the charm when he says, "Funny seeing you here."

Dongmin laughs hollowly.

Moon Bin shifts between his feet, off-put by Dongmin's disingenuous laugh.  He shakes his head and sticks out a hand, "I'm Moon Bin."

"I know."

"You know?" Bin's pitch rises sharply with hope and surprise lacing the words.

Dongmin nods once, "It was written on the cup."

Bin's face falls with an understanding bob of the head.  He slowly retracts his hand with a soft chuckle, "The world is a small place."

"Indeed, well, Moon Bin, I've got to go home.  It's kind of late."

"Oh yeah, right," he quickly smiles, "I guess there's plenty of time to talk and catch up since we're at the same rink."

Dongmin almost winces.  Bin is going to try to talk to him and be friendly, which will make it hard to avoid him.  Dongmin turns on the balls of his feet and shuffles toward his car.

"You didn't tell me your name!"

Dongmin hesitates for a moment.  He looks over his shoulder, "It's Lee Dongmin."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends, welcome back. i was too tired to finish this chapter last night. i'm kinda tired now, but i powered through.  
> um here's my [tumblr](http://yehetno.tumblr.com) again because it's a place i am.  
> comments would be dope.  
> kudos/subscribe/bookmark if you want (i would appreciate any and all of those things).


	3. iii. three turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone falls, but it's the recovery that is important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe typos. team, i'm tired.

Dongmin decides to spend his break in High1 rink's bleachers because, funnily enough, there are fewer people populating their bleachers than in the other rink.  A youth league and a plethora of parents and personnel are overseeing practice in the other rink, so Dongmin and his binders are sprawled across the cold aluminum bleachers.  With a pen caught in his mouth, Dongmin thinks about how to recalibrate his lesson plans while lamenting the loss of his desk space. His back faces the ice so that he can treat the row in front of him like a narrow desktop.

He hears the blade of stick slap against the ice, and a few players begin shouting at each other.  A cascade of blades stomps flatly against the ice as the puck rattles against the boards.

Dongmin wants to turn around and watch the goings-on of the practice badly.  Each command barked behind his back intrigues him that much more.  He worries that his choice of workspace might have a little something to do with Moon Bin.  There is an unspeakable and intrusive curiosity around him that niggles in the base of his brain.  He cannot help but wonder what kind of skater Bin might be.  He imagines Bin to be light on his feet, easily switching between forward and backward motion, deftly dodging other players.  He won't lie, he is tempted to look up Moon Bin just to see how he moves.  He resists that urge though; if he should ever see Moon Bin skate, it will be organically and in person.  He will not watch highlight clips on an Internet browser and get sucked through a rabbit hole, watching video after video of an acquaintance.  He hates being in the position of admiring a hockey player's technique.

He considers fishing earbuds out of his backpack, hoping that music might drown his curiosity if but for a moment.  He can only hope that their practice might end sooner than scheduled; the day is winding down and he'll have an hour or so with Minhyuk that will take him to closing time.  

Dongmin pulls the pen out of his mouth, itching the underside of his jaw before finally making an edit to his lesson plan.  He thinks he might be able to compress the timeline a little and slip in some preparatory skills for the kids who will graduate to the next set of classes.

"Everyone on the goal line!" A coach yells, "We're doing suicides to close out."

Dongmin cringes internally, finding enough room in his heart to pity the hockey players on the ice that have to do endurance drills.  He remembers when his thigh would burn from sprinting across the ice from goal line to blue and back to the goal line again.  He understands the necessary athleticism in hockey, even if he finds the sport too harsh for his taste.  A whistle screams sharply, and a chorus of blades cut into the ice behind Dongmin.

Footsteps pad lightly on the bleachers, and Jinwoo sinks onto the bench, moving a clipboard out the way to sit next to Dongmin.  Jinwoo leans back, resting his elbows against Dongmin's makeshift desk space.  "They're really carving up the ice out there," Jinwoo comments, pulling a lollipop out of his pocket and offering it to Dongmin.

Dongmin smiles and accepts the bulbous candy, ripping the wax paper off and tucking it into his mouth.  He shifts it into his cheek and says, "I wish I had my desk."

"You could use the front desk," Jinwoo offers, crunching down on a lollipop of his own.

"People check in at the front desk; I would be constantly distracted."

Jinwoo snorts, "And working in a noisy rink being used for hockey practice of all things is preferable to the front desk."

Dongmin holds his head up haughtily, "The sound of blades and ice soothes me."

JInwoo squints at him, "You abhor the state that hockey players leave the ice in.  You're always complaining about ruts.  Plus, you're in close proximity to pucks."

"Ruts  _are_ the worst, but metal and ice make music," Dongmin quietly counterargues.  He may have an inconsequential coincidental motive, but he does find the mere sound of skating soothing.  Hockey players do beat up the ice and leave deep cuts behind; however, in the moment, Dongmin's annoyance is squarely aimed at the upper echelon of rink management for taking away his workspace.  (Besides, he admits that toe picks can leave ugly gouges of their own in the surface of the ice.)

"Are you coming to their welcoming party or not?"

"I said I was busy."

Jinwoo shrugs, "I'll put you down as a maybe."

Dongmin waves him off as Jinwoo hops onto his feet.  A final long screeching whistle signifies the end of High1's day of practice.  He knows that Jinwoo is going to fire up the Zamboni and resurface the ice to give Minhyuk a clean training surface.

A parade of hockey players walks past Dongmin, interspersing their panting with a comment here and there.  He makes an effort to avoid looking at them coming and going.  He thanks his lucky stars that none of them try to actually talk to him, unsure of how he might handle another interaction with Moon Bin.  He wants to be rude and uptight; Moon Bin already spells trouble and Dongmin has hardly spent any time with him.  He first met Moon Bin on a night where wounded pride had scars reopened.  He hates to sound cliched, but he is not quite receptive to the idea of love or flirtation at the moment.  He knows himself, which means he knows he'll throw up all sorts of walls, and walls are exhausting to keep up.

Dongmin collects his things, stacking binders atop one another and ferrying them back to their temporary home while Jinwoo resurfaces the ice.  He laces up his boots and waits at the door, smiling to himself because he will be the first person to mark up the pristine ice. 

Jinwoo drives off the ice, and Dongmin unlatches the door, placing a foot firmly on the ice.  It will take a couple minutes for other skaters to filter onto the ice and begin warming up.  A serenity falls over Dongmin as he glides forward;  he does a quick three turn, traveling backward to look at the lines his blades have sliced into the ice.  He does a few laps around the rink, falling into a step sequence from an old competitive program.  He does a twizzle, starting an entry into a spin before he brings himself to a halt.

He presses his face into his hands; he rarely has to remind himself that he cannot skate like this anymore.  He teaches because it is the closest he can get to his first love, maybe his only love.  His body is not in the right condition and will never be again.  He lifts his head and exhales.  

He does a light waltz jump, so light that it's hardly a jump at all.  He stands in the middle of the ice, waving as Minhyuk hops onto the ice with a wide smile.   He heads toward the boards and furrows his brow when he sees Moon Bin and a teammate looking on. An alien sense of embarrassment fills Dongmin's chest.  He hopes, probably in vain, that they didn't see him slipping into an old performance. 

He watches Minhyuk practice a step sequence of his own, offering the occasional critique about the surface Minhyuk isn't covering.  He rings around a circle and demonstrates the depth of his edges, asking Minhyuk to  _listen_ to how his skate carve into the ice. (He is hyperaware of the onlooking hockey players, especially since Moon Bin might be critiquing  _his_ form.)

Minhyuk salutes him and injects more power into his crossovers, offering Dongmin a glimpse of a spread eagle with deeply bent knees on an outside edge.

Their time on the ice winds down with only a few other skaters and coaches joining them on the ice.  He pushes Minhyuk to perform a dry-run of his short competitive program without any music.  Minhyuk falls on his double axel right out the gate.

Dongmin skates over and holds out his hand.  Minhyuk winces, grimacing in shame and slight pain as he gets back on his feet.  Dongmin claps a hand on his shoulder, "We all fall."

Minhyuk nods, hiding his face, "I'll see you later, Coach."

Dongmin pulls the corners of his lips into a small smile, allowing Minhyuk to shake it off.  He knows that Minhyuk criticizes himself for his own mistakes more often than he forgives himself.  It hurts him a little to see that small reflection of himself in Minhyuk, the way his head hangs in disappointment and his hands grip his hips to distract from the dull throb of a fall.

Dongmin skates off the ice, finding his bag in the bleachers and recentering himself when he sees Moon Bin approaching in his peripheral vision.

"So you used to figure skate?" Bin asks rhetorically. 

"I am a man with many hats."

"What are some other hats you wear?"

Dongmin shoves a foot into his shoe, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yes," Bin answers, biting the tip of his tongue with a flirty smile.

Dongmin sighs and hastily yanks at the laces, securing it in a knotted bow.

Bin drums his fingers against the aluminum as he watches Dongmin get ready to leave.   It is almost odd to Dongmin that Bin might waste the seconds in silence.  However, it falls just short of being odd because he gets the feeling that Bin chooses his words carefully.  He wants to remain willfully ignorant of Bin's intentions with his caution.

"Will you be coming to welcoming party?"

"That's the million dollar question," Dongmin huffs as he picks up his bag. "Have a good night."

"I'll try to make sure we sit together," Bin calls out after Dongmin.

Dongmin squeezes his eyes shut, resisting the urge to have the last word.  He can only hold onto the bliss of innocent exchanges for so long before Bin shatters it all with a few words. He hopes Bin will let it pass, but he knows how unlikely it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *for anyone who has never do The Sports, suicides are a conditioning technique; for skaters, they start at the goal line and go out to progressively further lines (close blue, center, far blue, other goal line) but they have to touch back to the first goal line before going onto the next line. it's a lot of back and forth, and it sucks.  
> (idk how satisfied i am w this chapter...)  
> thanks for READING!!!!


End file.
